


Not Perfect

by Applefall



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Body Image, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3154181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applefall/pseuds/Applefall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing is, Patrick has the perfect body to cuddle with. Patrick doesn't agree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be short and fluffy and then it turned into a feel fic that will have multiple chapters.

The thing is, Patrick has the perfect body to cuddle with. Pete's known that since day one, ever since Patrick opened his door wearing an argyle sweater and shorts. He remembers looking the kid up and down in disbelief, because was this really the kid Joe was going on and on about? It turned out it was the kid Joe was talking about. Pete had imagined him to be... more punk. He'd imagined tattoos and a lip piercing, dark hair and dark eyes, small and scrawny.

He was met with the opposite, really. Patrick had blue green eyes that always seemed to change, strawberry hair and the palest skin Pete had ever seen. His face was round and his cheeks were pink, giving him an angelic appearance. As Pete's eyes made their way down his body, he noticed that Patrick was anything but small and scrawny. Patrick was shorter than Pete, that was surprising, but had broad shoulders and his band tee-shirt looked tight as it stretched across his chest. His thighs were thick, and his stomach extended somewhat. He wasn't thin, not at all, but he wasn't huge. Patrick was the perfect size for cuddling.

Since day one he'd loved cuddling with Patrick. In the van, after shows, when his nightmares woke him up. Pete could always count on Patrick to be there with firm open arms. It had started with a typical Pete Wentz nightmare. He'd awoken drenched in sweat, chest heaving. His position sprawled across the van seats didn't help ease the numbness in his arms and legs. Up front, Andy and Joe were asleep, Joe's head tilted back and his mouth open, snoring softly. Andy was curled into himself and twitching slightly. Pete raised himself shakily and peered over the seats.

In the very back was Patrick. He'd been banished to the back after making Andy drop his coffee that morning. Pete and Joe had laughed about it while Patrick had climbed over the seats and sulked for hours. Patrick was resting with his head on a small pillow and a ragged blanket covered his body. Pete could see his bare legs peeking out from underneath the blanket and a hand next to his face, his thumb resting on his full lower lip in the memory of thumb-sucking. The sight of the sleeping seventeen year old boy calmed Pete down slightly.

Pete climbed over the seat carefully, trying not to make any noise. He nearly landed on Patrick but managed to avoid it. Once he had settled in the cramped space, he hesitantly whispered, "Patrick? 'Trick, w-wake up." Patrick's face scrunched up for a moment before he made a soft sighing noise and twitched. Pete repeated the words once more, louder, and Patrick began to blink open his eyes, nose wrinkled in confusion.

"Huh? Pete?" He asked softly, lifting his head slightly and squinting up at him. His hair was messy and stuck out in multiple directions and Pete resisted the urge to run a hand through it. "What is it?" Patrick asked him sleepily, licking his lips in an effort to remove the dryness.

"I had, had a n-nightmare." Pete explained quietly, the very thought of the nightmare terrifying him. Patrick sat up then, rubbing his eyes and holding his arms out. Pete lifted himself from his uncomfortable position and crawled onto the seat next to him, wrapping his arms around Patrick's waist. In return, Patrick threw an arm around Pete and brought his head closer to his chest. Pete could feel Patrick's heart beating and then fluttering as Pete nuzzled against him. Patrick ran a light hand through his hair before resting it on Pete's shoulder. The other hand was splayed across Pete's lower back and Pete couldn't help but feel like Patrick was claiming him. The very thought sent chills through him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Patrick asked him softly, holding him close. Pete shook his head before yawning against Patrick's chest. Just the feeling of Patrick's firm arms holding him were enough to calm him down and for the first time in months he felt safe. Patrick directed his head to his lap and Pete stretched out across the seats, holding onto a thick thigh. Patrick began humming softly and carding a hand through Pete's hair gently. Before Pete knew it, he was almost asleep. The last thing he heard before falling asleep was Patrick's soft voice in his ear saying, "I'm here, always here, Pete."

-x-

After that first time, Pete began using Patrick as a cuddle buddy every day. Patrick never minded, always allowed Pete to curl up next to him or lay his head in his lap. Joe and Andy laughed about it at first, but as time went on they acknowledged that Pete wouldn't be the same without the warmth and comfort of Patrick.

One night after a show, they were checking into a motel because they could afford to do that now. There was a PetePatrick room and a Andy and Joe room. By then, Andy and Joe knew that Pete didn't like being separated for Patrick for very long. It was always PeteandPatrick, PatrickandPete. Pete couldn't imagine a life without Patrick and he could only hope Patrick felt the same.

Not long after they enter the room, Pete throws off his shirt and jeans, because he's Pete Wentz and Pete Wentz loves being naked. Patrick on the other hand, is entirely different. Patrick throws a nervous glance at Pete and grabs pajama pants and a tee-shirt, stalking into the bathroom to change. It doesn't take long for him to come out and crawl into the bed. Pete follows suit, curling next to Patrick's warm body.

Instinctively, he wraps an arm around Patrick's waist and uses his other hand to ruck Patrick's shirt up, grabbing the extra fat gently and marveling at it's softness and squishiness. Immediately, Patrick tenses and pushes his hands away. Pete looks up at him and there was a look that could only be described as panic on Patrick's face as he scooted away. "Don't." Patrick commanded, voice shaky.

"'Trick, I'm sorry. What's wrong?" He asks concernedly. Patrick never pushed him away. Ever. He couldn't help but feel somewhat hurt. Patrick swallows, the click audible.

"It's- it's nothing. I mean, just... just don't, okay?" Patrick stammers out, pulling his shirt down. "I'm, I'm not thin... like, like you or Andy or Joe." Patrick elaborates hesitantly, visibly trembling. Pete exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Gently, he brings a hand up to Patrick's stomach, laying it flat across the extended belly. Patrick flinches, his breath hitching.

Pete moves closer to him, moving the hand from his belly to his face. "'Trick, I've never, _ever_ , cared about your size. You're perfect." And Pete means it. Pete knows the reasons Patrick wears hoodies and formless jeans. He knows why Patrick attempts to hide himself with trucker hats and he knows why Patrick hides himself behind Pete, Andy and Joe, even though he's bigger than the three of them. His heart twists because for the first time, he truly realizes that Patrick is so insecure that he doesn't even want _Pete_ , _Pete his best friend for two years,_ to see him shirtless. Pete's overwhelmed with emotion for this small and insecure nineteen year old boy and before either of them realize it, Pete has his lips on Patrick's and Patrick has a hand in his hair.

Patrick tugs on his hair and Pete runs his tongue across Patrick's full bottom lip. Patrick lets him in and the kiss that was supposed to be chaste and quick turns into a full blown make out session, Pete moving his hands to Patrick's face. Patrick runs a hand down Pete's body and it lands on his ass, cupping and drawing him closer. After a minute they pull away, chests heaving. Pete runs a thumb across Patrick's lower lip, amazed at how red and swollen its become.

"F-fuck, Pete. If you're messing around..." Patrick threatens and Pete shakes his head quickly.

"Do you honestly t-think I was messing around just then? Fuck, Lunchbox, fuck." Pete gasps out because apparently the head shake was all Patrick needed before his lips moved to his neck. Pete grinds against him slowly, relishing the sweet friction. " _Patrick,_ " Pete gasps when Patrick's hands move up his chest. Pete moves to do the same, lifting the black tee-shirt. Patrick pulls away from his neck and his eyes widen with panic.

"W-wait! I... I don't think that you'll-" Pete cuts him off with a gentle kiss, still moving the tee-shirt upwards. Patrick squirms before stilling.

"Patrick, please. Let me show you how you beautiful you are." Pete whispers against his lips. Patrick's trembling but he nods. Pete takes off the shirt and lowers his pajama pants, throwing the two off the bed. Patrick's trembling only increases until he's shaking when Pete removes the covers. Pete sucks in a breath at the sight of Patrick spread out beneath him, though he's shaking. "Patrick, Patrick. It's okay, I'm here. Always here." Pete repeats the soft words he had heard nearly two years ago back to Patrick and Patrick visibly calms.

"You remember that?" Patrick asks him softly, eyes widening. Pete nods and Patrick smiles. Pete places hands on Patrick's stomach and Patrick tenses once more, sucking in a breath. "Patrick, please."

Patrick closes his eyes and nods slowly. "Yeah." Pete lowers his head to his stomach, moving kisses across his stomach and inching his boxers down. Patrick whimpers, curling his toes. The boxers come down and Pete's eyes focus first on Patrick's leaking cock, and then the colorful bruises coloring the areas that were covered by the boxers. Pete stares at the bruises, pressing a finger into one. Patrick flinches violently and his eyes fly open.

"Shit, shit, _shit!_ " Patrick says, voice rising into a panicked shout. " _Fuck!_ I f-f-forgot about t-the b-bruises." Patrick wails and pushes Pete away. He pulls his boxers back up hastily, rolling off the bed and grabbing his forgotten pajamas. Pete watches him, feeling dazed as Patrick throws the clothes on and runs out of the room, presumably to Andy and Joe's room. It's only until a few moments later does Pete realize that Patrick must have made those bruises.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They talk about it (kind of).

Pete doesn't even try to sleep after Patrick hurries out of the room. All he can see is the blue black decorating the porcelain skin, Patrick's face as Pete pressed a finger to one, shocked. Instead, he acts like a teenager and sulks, screaming into his pillow occasionally. After he's worn himself out, the door flies open and a very mad Joseph Trohman is stomping in, dressed in only pajama pants. Pete jumps from the unexpected noise, letting out a startled yelp.

"What did you do to Patrick?!" Joe shouts, stomping over and throwing the covers off of Pete. Pete dares to look up, shrinking back at the pure anger on Joe's face. Joe may be the youngest in the band, but he's the most terrifying at the moment. "It took him an hour to fall asleep and he was crying the whole time!" Joe yells, standing back and crossing his arms. Pete shrugs, averting his gaze. "What...did...you...do." Joe says quietly, his anger evident on every angle of his face. Pete frowns up at him. He recognizes that scary calm. It takes a lot to make Joe scary calm.

"Tried to show him gorgeous he is?" Pete says, sitting up and putting his face in his hands. "Made out with him a bit?" He adds, looking up at Joe. Joe's mouth has fallen open and his eyes are wide. The look on his face is almost comical.

"You mean...you two...but why?" Joe asks confusedly, brow furrowing as he looks at Pete. Joe sits next to him and Pete sighs. "So you kissed him and what, tried to fuck him?" Joe asks, wincing at his own words. "Dude."

Pete shakes his head hastily. "No, no.. I mean, maybe," Joe looks at him in horror, "Yeah, I'm fucking bisexual, Joe, get over it... but anyways, I was just about to suck-" Joe makes a protesting noise, waving his hands wildly. "Okay, well you know, and then I saw these bruises and I touched one and Patrick just _freaked the fuck out_." Pete explains this all to Joe, whose face is flushed.

Joe brings a hand up to his face, squeezing the bridge of his nose and sighing heavily. "So why the fuck did he freak out?" Joe asks. Pete shrugs at this, trying to remember every detail. Once it had happened he'd instantly started forgetting the smallest details. He remembered the larger details, like Patrick's soft sighs and gentle moans. Pete thinks back, instantly coming up with the answer.

"He thinks he's too big. He doesn't like his body." Pete whispers, heart twisting. Joe's face softens and he frowns. "He told me he didn't think he was good enough. God, Joe, how come we've never realized that Patrick was so unhappy?" Pete asks, voice a choked whisper.

"I don't know... But he's asleep in our room. Just... don't bother him about it." Joe advises and Pete nods. Joe stands and leaves quietly, leaving Pete alone with his whirling mind.

Eventually he falls asleep, but he wakes up in the middle of the night with nightmares for the first time in a while. Eyes closed, his trembling fingers search the mattress for Patrick until he realizes Patrick's not there. Pete curls into himself and lets out a broken dry sob. All he wants is Patrick's warmth and his body curled against Pete's, his hands pressed against his chest. All he wants is for Patrick to be there, whispering gentle things into his ear. He falls back asleep to the memory of Patrick rubbing circles into his arm and humming a soft tune.

-x-

Patrick is in his room when he wakes up. He's about to stretch when he hears something fall and land on the carpet and a soft cursing. Instead of stretching, he opens one eye, barely, in an attempt to get a look at Patrick. Patrick stands near the bed, holding a hoodie and jeans. Patrick leans over and retrieves his fallen shoes, the black tee-shirt rising just enough for Pete to see the pale sliver of skin. Pete makes a yawning noise from the back of his throat, shutting his eyes and stretching out. He opens his eyes again to find Patrick frozen, eyes wide and terrified as he watches Pete. Pete blinks sleep out of his eyes and sits up slowly, yawning. "P-P-Patrick?" He asks mid-yawn. He turns to look at his best friend and winces, his face feels puffy and his eyes are probably red.

"What happened to you?" Patrick asks stiffly, straightening and clutching clothing close to him. Pete rubs at his eyes for a moment and then sees Patrick watching him expectantly.

"Nightmares." He shrugs and Patrick's eyes widen even more. Pete can see him thinking hard and swallowing. Patrick drops his clothing on the floor and moves towards the bed, the very faint sunlight Illuminating his skin. He raises an eyebrow and Pete nods, scooting to make more room for him. Patrick crawls into the bed and presses himself against Pete, fingers splayed across his chest.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I... I promised you I would always, _always,_ be there and I wasn't. I'm sorry." Patrick mumbles against his chest. Pete can feel hot tears leaking out of Patrick's eyes and dripping onto his chest, but he doesn't mind. All he does is card a hand through Patrick's hair.

"It's okay. I'm okay. Are... are  _you_ okay?" Pete asks him gently, willing Patrick to answer him and not flee like he did last night. Patrick tenses and then relaxes, shrugging his shoulders.

"Maybe. I freaked out. You weren't supposed to ever see the bruises... no one was." Patrick whispers, looking up. Pete cups his cheek and Patrick leans into the touch, eyes fluttering.

"'Trick... what are those bruises from?" Pete asks quietly, voice low and concerned. Patrick swallows and Pete moves his hand to his shoulder, rubbing comforting circles.

"I-I-I... I made those. Like this." Patrick moves his hand to his waist and inches down his pajama pants and boxers enough to wear Pete can see a few bruises. Patrick takes hold of some of the extra flesh into his fingers and begins squeezing, hard. His face contorts and he sucks in a breath, but all he does is squeeze harder. Pete is mortified that Patrick can do this to himself and grabs his hand, holding it between both of his. The area where he had pinched was bright red, angry and glaring up at Patrick. A stream of tears fell from Patrick's eyes and his body shook, a sob escaping his mouth.

"Patrick, how long have you been doing this?" Pete asks him, his heart twisting and his voice choked. He can't bear the thought of Patrick doing this to himself, standing in front of a mirror and picking out his own flaws.

"F-f-for three y-years." Patrick stammers, body shaking. Three years. Sixteen year old Patrick appears in his mind, all smiles and comforting arms. He never thought that behind the smiles and behind the lame jokes there was a boy who was struggling with himself. "I hate, hate, _hate_ , myself." Patrick whispers, sniffling. The lump in Pete's throat grows at these words and he sucks in a breath. Behind the round cheeks and the bright blue green eyes was a boy who hated himself. A boy who hated the way he looked. A boy. "I was gonna, gonna kill myself... and then I met you an' Joe an' Andy. Then I t-thought 'Hey! M-maybe I'll have some friends, f-for once.'" Patrick chokes out, eyes brimming with tears again.

Pete moves his arms to his waist and grips him tightly, squeezing him. Patrick squeaks and Pete lets a few tears of his own fall into Patrick's messy strawberry hair. "'Trick, I can't- I can't, I didn't, I'm so sorry." Pete manages to say, holding the nineteen year old boy close to his chest. Patrick cries into his bare skin, body trembling. "Patrick, I love you, I love you, I love you. Please don't hate yourself." Pete begs.

All Patrick does is cry harder, fingers splayed across his chest and breathing raggedly.

-x-

Pete wakes up again to a strong arm shaking him awake. He screws up his face and looks up, faced with Andy. Patrick is still curled against his chest, breathing even and slow. "What?" Pete hisses, gesturing as best he can to the sleeping Patrick. Andy narrows his eyes and crosses his arms.

"It's fucking noon, Pete, we gotta leave, like, now!" Andy replies with a growl. "Wake Patrick the fuck up and lets go!" Andy tells him, turning and walking out of the room. Pete groans and then brings a hand down to Patrick's shoulder, shaking him awake.

"'Trick, 'Trick. Lunchbox. Wake up." Pete murmurs in his ear until he wakes up, stretching and digging his nails into Pete's chest involuntarily. Pete winces as he does so, but drops a kiss onto Patrick's temple. "We gotta change, Patrick. Hurry." Pete tells him and Patrick looks up with a contented smile, eyes drooping. At Pete's words though, they fly open and Patrick rolls off the bed, scrambling to grab his clothes.

"Pete! We gotta hurry!" Patrick shouts, voice slurred with sleepiness. Pete chuckles and gets out of the bed, searching for his jeans. He pulls them on and throws on a shirt, turning to see Patrick struggling with his belt. Pete shakes his head affectionately and moves over to help him, his fingers grasping the belt. Patrick's trembling fingers settle at his sides and once Pete finishes they kiss slowly and softly. "Gonna, gonna be late." Patrick yawns against his lips and hooks his thumbs in Pete's belt loops, grinning. Pete's fingers slide up his shirt and rest at his sides, pressing against the extra fat. Pete usually hooks up with and dates thin and bony people, people who have sharp jaws and high cheekbones. But Patrick's the opposite. There's a give beneath Pete's fingers and honestly, he's loving it. His cheeks are round but his cheekbones are somewhat prominent. The sideburns that trail down the sides of his face are long and perfect. Patrick's happy expression turns to one of worry as Pete looks at him. "What?" He asks nervously, looking down. Pete sighs and lifts his chin.

"You're gorgeous." He says and a smile forms on Patrick's face, his pretty lips curving upwards. Pete's glad that he accepts the compliment without protesting as he normally does. "Now c'mon, before Andy comes back and attacks us."

"He wouldn't do that, he loves me too much." Patrick grins cheekily. The two turn and grab their bags, slinging them over the shoulders and walking out of the room. They drop the key off at the front, heading out to where the van is waiting. Andy honks the horn impatiently and Patrick laughs. "Hold on." Patrick says, a mischievous look in his eyes. Unexpectedly, he grabs at Pete's waist and draws him close, pressing his lips to Pete's. Pete's not about to complain about the random kiss, instead nibbles down on Patrick's lower lip. This earns him a muffled moan, Patrick's hands scrambling up to hold his waist.

Behind them, the van honks louder and longer, causing them to break apart. Patrick's face is red and his lower lip is somewhat swollen, but he's grinning and laughing. "Wanna bet how much he'll piss himself once we get in there?" Patrick asks, allowing Pete to hook an arm around his waist as they hurry to the van.

"You're on." Pete smirks as they climb into the van. "And... we still need to talk about us... our relationship." Pete adds, making Patrick frown. Patrick shrugs and looks away.

"Alright." Patrick says and opens his mouth to speak again when Andy cuts him off.

"How long have you two been fucking?" Andy asks loudly, face red.


End file.
